


Thirty Seconds

by AsparagusCrown



Category: Bleach
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathtub Sex, Breathplay, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dom/sub Undertones, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, POV Second Person, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Thoughts of drowning, but no one is getting clean here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 20:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsparagusCrown/pseuds/AsparagusCrown
Summary: You rest your chin against Grimmjow’s cheek, just above the fragment of his mask, close enough to see the wet sheen at the corners of his eyes, the estigma slashing blue across flushed skin.You lean in and lick away the salt off his lashes.“What’s wrong, kitty? Afraid of a bit of water?”A glare. “Fuck...you...Kurosaki.”You laugh low in your chest, tighten your grip in his hair, and push Grimmjow back under.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36





	Thirty Seconds

Claws scrabble for purchase on the plastic edge of the tub. Grimmjow’s body clenches tight around your dick, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh as you settle fully inside him. You give a shallow thrust, pushing Grimmjow further under the surface.

One hand fisted in hair so vibrantly blue you think it’ll run in the water. The other hand grasping a hip. You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, and you watch the way each thrust punches a string of bubbles from between his lips.

_Ten seconds._

You pull Grimmjow up, gasping, droplets of water dripping down his front, and you plaster yourself across his firm back, one arm across his heaving chest.

You rest your chin against Grimmjow’s cheek, just above the fragment of his mask, close enough to see the wet sheen at the corners of his eyes, the estigma slashing blue across flushed skin.

You lean in and lick away the salt off his lashes.

“What’s wrong, kitty? Afraid of a bit of water?”

A glare.

“Fuck...you...Kurosaki.”

You laugh low in your chest, tighten your grip in his hair, and push Grimmjow back under.

All that power and deadly strength at your mercy. Slick and wet and shuddering, all this is yours and yours alone. It’s a heady feeling, like an adrenaline rush to your hindbrain, a straight shot of cocaine to the dark, hard, instinct at the core of you, the part of you that is every last bit his to own.

Maybe you’ll hold him down longer this time. You wonder if arrancar need to breathe, if the water of the living world can fill his incorporeal lungs. If you held him down long enough would he stop struggling eventually, go limp and lax like he never does while he’s awake? Maybe like that, part of you howls, you could keep him. The potential tastes like danger: steel on your tongue, electricity sparking in your veins.

You drive your hips forward again in earnest, moaning loud enough to echo in the enclosed space of the bathroom. You’re sure he feels it vibrating, through your chest against his back, and he gives one whole-body shudder, hands clenching white-knuckled against the lip of the bathtub. Every line of his shoulders is tense, straining, quivering ever so slightly.

Your free hand finds his straining cock, and you swipe a thumb across the leaking tip. His hips jolt forward into your fist, and you move with it, chasing the heat of him. You trace a trail up that taut back with your lips, and sink your teeth in between two knobs of his vertebrae.

He jerks, more bubbles erupting from his mouth in a gurgle as he tries to say something you don’t quite catch. He shifts to move his head up, but you tighten your grip and push him down firmly. The gesture draws him tighter around you, and your moan turns breathy for a moment. His hand claws at your hip in retaliation, leaving stinging trails along your thigh.

_Twenty seconds._

You let up.

Grimmjow comes back up coughing. Warm water sloshes over the rim and across your knees. You take the opportunity to thrust up, shallow but with enough force to jolt Grimmjow forward on the wet tile. His knees slip, spreading wider, and you take the chance to push forward, trapping his cock against the side of the tub. He catches himself with his hands on the rim of the tub before he slips further, but his hips stutter, seeking friction that you are no longer providing.

“Fuck!” he gasps out between breaths, “are ya tryin’ to kill me?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it.” You laugh.

He growls and you drag your tongue over the bite mark on his spine, twisting your hand around his cock again. The growl stutters in his throat, and you smile against his back.

You let Grimmjow catch his breath, before pulling his head back, craning his neck at an awkward angle to smash your mouths together.

The kiss is more teeth than tongue, and makes your gums tingle with the heat of it. After a moment, you seal your lips together, open-mouthed, as if you are the Hollow trying to eat him whole. You breathe one long, slow breath into his lungs, then wrench his head away and back down beneath the water.

Grimmjow’s hole spasms around you in shock. His cock twitches in your palm. A hand splashes in the water. You grin.

 _Thirty seconds_ , you think, and lean down again.


End file.
